


Of Beaks and Boaters

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Boarding School, Boarding School AU, Eventual Johnlock, Harrow, Harrow AU, Harrow School, High School AU, Johnlock - Freeform, Kidlock, M/M, Teenlock, eventual Mystrade, mystrade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 14:46:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1692152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's time for 13 year old Sherlock to join his older brother (and newly appointed Head Boy) at Harrow School. But the young Holmes has never boarded before, and is very unsettled at the thought of being away from the comfort of his own home. Better get out of bed now, don't want to be late for Bill!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Beaks and Boaters

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write something like this for a while now, and so I finally am! If you're unfamiliar with Harrovian jargon, here's some key words and meanings:  
> Beak = Teacher  
> Boater = A straw hat that's part of the compulsory uniform  
> Bill = Role-call basically  
> Shells = First years. First years are called "New Boys" for the first two weeks though, until they take and pass they New Boy's test.  
> Removes = Second, third, and fourth years.
> 
> The New Boy's test is a test given at the end of the "Grace Period" (first two weeks, the new Shells are given a little bit of slack when it comes to rules and such for this window, but after they're treated as every other boy) and it involves knowing all the house names, colours, and initials of the House Masters. In the two week grace period, the new boys are only allowed their mobile phones for forty-five minutes a night, but after (if they pass the test) that's no longer enforced and they're allowed their phones back full time.
> 
> As the story goes on I'll be updating the notes with more information about Harrow relevant to the story, and if there are any words you're unfamiliar with, just drop me a message and I'll endeavour to provide clarity! Thank you for choosing to read my story!

 

Chapter One: New Boys

 

Mycroft Holmes was frustrated. Rightly so, as his little brother was nowhere to be found. He sat on his trunk in the hallway of their home, massaging his temples, before calling out once more.

“Sherlock! Come on! We'll be late!”

He didn't recall being so difficult on his first day of boarding school. But then, he'd been boarding since the age of eight, and Sherlock was thirteen and boarding for the first time. Finally, his little brother appeared, dragging two large suitcases behind him.

“I don't want to go, Mycroft...I won't know anyone there!”

“Many of the other new boys will be in the same position as you, Sherlock. You'll make plenty of friends amongst the other Shells, now come on, we have to go now.”

Sherlock regarded his older brother with mild distaste. This was all easy enough for him to say, he'd been at Harrow for four years already, and was now in his final year. Sherlock had five whole years ahead of him.

“I don't _have_ friends...” he grumbled.

It was true. In all his thirteen years, he had not had one single friend. Although, he had no one to blame for his friendlessness but himself, he just didn't  _try._ Mycroft hadn't any friends we he first started at Harrow. Even in his previous boarding school he hadn't any. A few weeks into his first year, he eventually befriended a boy by the name of Gregory Lestrade, and now four years on they were the best of friends.

“You will _make_ them, Sherlock. You just have to get involved. You won't survive without friends. Boarding school is a very lonely place without them. Do lots of extra-curricular activities.”

Mycroft patted his younger brother on the back, and dragged his trunk out to the car that was waiting for them. Sherlock followed behind him lethargically, and shoved his suitcases into the boot of the car.

“You only have one friend...”

Mycroft rolled his eyes.

“I have one _best friend_...whom you _will_ meet, and be civil towards. I endeavour to be friendly to all nine hundred boys in the school, as is my duty this year as Head Boy.”

Sherlock sighed, opening the door and getting into the car. He'd have to live up to the great Mycroft Holmes. Everyone there would expect so much of him, expect him to be a carbon copy of his brother. They'd be in for a shock.

 

* * *

 

Sherlock spent most of the car journey to school in silence, staring out of the window. As they neared the school, Mycroft jolted him out of his daydream.

“Sherlock! Are you even listening to me?”

“Hm? Sorry, no.”

Mycroft sighed.

“As I was saying, I've ensured that you're in the same boarding house as me, okay? You'll be in The Park, and our colours are red and white-”

“Yes I know that, you've had me studying for the New Boy's test for weeks now, even though it’s not for another two weeks!”

“I just want you to succeed. It would reflect badly on-”

“It would reflect badly on you if I failed? Wow.”

Mycroft shook his head.

“It would reflect badly on the name of Holmes, Sherlock. Father's an Old Harrovian, so is our grandfather, and his father before him. You _will_ pass the New Boy's test, understand?”

Sherlock grumbled, a quick nod of his head.

“Now let's run through it. Bradbys?”

“Purple and white, DRW.”

“Druries?”

“Red and black, MJMR.”

“Elmfield?”

“Purple and black, MJT.”

“Gayton?”

“Over-spill house, NJM.”

“The Grove?”

“Red and blue, CST.”

“The Headmaster's?”

“Pink and white, SAH.”

“The Knoll?”

“Yellow and black, ERS.”

“Lyon's?”

“Green and black, AKM.”

“Moretons?”

“White and blue, PJE.”

“Newlands?”

“Yellow and white, EWH.”

“The Park?”

“Red and white, NDAK.”

“Rendalls?”

“Magenta and silver, SNT.”

“West Acre?”

“Red, white, and blue, MGJW.”

Mycroft nodded.

“Okay, very good. At least you've been studying.”

“Of course, I've been studying, you've been hanging over me like a dead horse all summer...”

“Oh do behave, Sherlock, look, we're here.”

The car pulled to a halt outside a large Victorian looking house, several boys already milling about outside with their parents. Mycroft pinned his new Head Boy badge onto his t-shirt.

_Show off,_ Sherlock thought bitterly, getting out of the car after him.

“Remind me again, Mycroft, why aren't mummy and daddy here to see me off?”

“I've told you, they're in New York on business, much more important than you going to school, dear brother, now get your cases.”

Mycroft pulled open the boot of the car, heaving his heavy trunk out.

“Mycroft!”

The older boy wheeled around, to be crushed into a hug by a dark-haired boy his own age.

“Greg! Goodness, happy to see me, are you? Let go, good gracious, I can't breathe!”

Sherlock watches the two older boys briefly, and turns his attention to getting his suitcases out of the car.

“So this is little Sherlock, then?” Greg grinned, amused.

Sherlock dropped his heavy cases to the ground with a thud.

“I'm not little!”

Greg just laughed.

“Oh yes you are, little man!” He ruffled Sherlock's dark, curly hair.

Sherlock scowled, and stepped away from the older boy.

“Don't mind him,” Mycroft drawled derisively, “He's nervous. Doesn't like being away from mummy and daddy...”

Greg laughed.

“Don't worry, young grasshopper, you'll get used to it.”

Sherlock slammed the car boot, and it drove off. 

“Come along, Sherlock, let's get you acquainted with the house...”

The two Holmes' dragged their heavy cases into the entrance hall, leaving all their belongings together. Mycroft approached the notice board.

“You'll be rooming with...ah, another young Shell named John Watson, room 21B.”

Sherlock looked horrified.

“I'm _sharing_ a room with someone?”

“Yes.”

“But...-but you have your own room! You said so!”

“Yes, I did say so, I also said that Shells and Removes have room-mates, and when you're in your fifth year you'll get your own room. Were you even listening?”

Sherlock scowled down at his shoes. He  _hadn't_ been listening. He didn't tend to listen when Mycroft waffled on about Harrow. He simply didn't care.

“Your room is on the second floor, on the western corridor. Come on, I'll show you up to it. My own room is, incidentally, just next door, so I'll know if you cause any trouble, understand?”

Sherlock sighed, and followed his brother upstairs, to a sizeable room with two narrow beds either side, two desks, two computers, and two wardrobes.

“Right, this is your room. Bathroom is communal, and just down the hall, third door on your left-”

Sherlock made a face.

“Get used to it, baby brother, you're a Harrovian now, community is key here. It's five-thirty now, you have to be downstairs in the meeting room for Bill at six o'clock. I will give an address to all the Shells at that time, general information about their daily schedules, for example you all need to be in that room in the morning, afternoon, and evening, for Bill three times a day. You'll be given your class schedules, and tomorrow, as it's your first real day, the new boys will be split into small groups and taken around the school by a Beak, and taught everything you need to know to function on the most basic of levels here, alright?”

Sherlock nodded.

“Er, just one thing-”

“A Beak is a teacher.”

“Right. Okay. Thanks.”

“I'll be back momentarily, I'll have your things brought up here for you. And Sherlock...” his voice softened, “You'll be okay, it's really not that bad.”

Sherlock swept his eyes around the room, taking it all in, letting all the information given to him settle in his brain. He'd file it all away in his mind palace later. His eyes met his brother's, and quickly tried to hide the unease on his face. Mycroft sighed, kneeling down and pulling his little brother into a hug.

“It'll be fine, Sherlock. If you have any problems, if you feel homesick, you've got me here. Yes, I'm busy, what with responsibilities as head boy and my A-Levels, but I can _always_ make time for you, yes?”

The thirteen year old nods, his eyebrows knitting together. The older Holmes stands again, resting a hand on the younger's shoulder and giving it a squeeze, before turning and leaving the room. Sherlock sighed, and wandered over to the bed farthest from the door. He decided this one would be his, as he plopped down and snatched the chocolate off the pillow. 

_I'll be fine,_ he thought, trying to reassure himself,  _I'll be just fine, Mycroft says so. Just fine..._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is greatly appreciated.


End file.
